


Awakening

by ultrapsychobrat



Category: Blake' s 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-16
Updated: 2010-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultrapsychobrat/pseuds/ultrapsychobrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are Blake's plans for the future viable?  Takes place very early, before Cygnus Alpha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awakening

Insomnia was nothing new to Blake; he spent many nights walking the decks of _Liberator_. He usually told himself he was exploring the huge alien battleship they had taken over several weeks ago. There were miles of corridors and countless rooms. They had found the auxiliary control center and a few necessary holds as quickly as they could and had basically ignored the remainder of the ship. Zen had printed diagrams of the decks, labeling the various areas and compartments, but you couldn't really know any place until you had seen it in person. That's what he told himself.... Truth be known, he didn't know why he roamed the ship when he couldn't sleep. His time would be better spent questioning Zen, finding out who the previous owners were, where they were from, and the intended use for the many odd things they had left behind. But somehow this wandering of the ship seemed to relax him, or at least tire him to the point of exhaustion so that he could sleep for a bit.

Tonight was no different and, as he took a lift to one of the lower decks he hadn't explored yet, he wondered if his plan to attack the Federation would ever actually succeed. He'd had a strange encounter with Avon a few nights ago that had left him with a measure of doubt. Avon was good at that—creating doubt—but maybe he'd had a point....

 

After roaming about for a couple of hours, he'd stopped in the lounge intending to make a cup of tea, or what passed for tea anyway. He'd been surprised to find Avon there; he usually spent his free time in one of the computer annexes figuring out how the system worked.

"Relaxing?"

Avon raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak. Blake spooned the powdered mix into a mug and drew boiling water from the spigot, giving the brew a couple of stirs. He carried his drink to the table where Avon sat. "Is this seat taken?"

"Be my guest. I'm finished here, anyway."

Blake reached out a hand to stop him from leaving. "I'd like to talk for a bit, if you've got a minute."

Avon relaxed back in his chair, resting his folded hands on the table. He said nothing, just locked eyes with Blake and waited. Damn, the man could make a fence post uncomfortable. Blake used the excuse of drinking from his mug to break the stare and wondered what he'd been thinking to assume he could talk to Avon. His thoughts were interrupted by the precise, cold voice.

"You wanted to talk, so talk."

"I...I thought...no."

"So you don't want to talk."

"Well, it isn't anything you want to hear."

"Probably not, but you can't talk to Jenna."

"How do you know?"

"Because you would have. You're wasting time."

"Maybe I should talk to Jenna."

"Fine."

"But I can't tell her...everything."

"I know."

"You won't understand, either."

"But I won't be shocked."

"Won't you?"

"No."

"About anything?"

"Nothing."

"You know the crime I was convicted of?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe I'm guilty?"

"Should I?"

"No."

"Then I don't."

"Why?"

"Too pedestrian."

"Child molestation isn't limited to the lower classes."

"Far from it."

"But you don't believe that of me?"

"No."

"Thank you."

"Go on."

"I am homosexual."

"Of course."

"Why of course."

"The charges against you would have involved female children, otherwise. The Federation is careful to make its lies extremely believable. Have you something else you wish to reveal?"

"Is that what I'm doing—revealing?"

"Isn't it?"

"I suppose, but that sounds too confessional."

"And I'm not a priest."

"But you won't tell anyone what I've told you."

"Not unless you think I should."

"No."

"Go on."

"I betrayed many people in my renunciations, many people who were murdered."

"Your mind had been tampered with."

"But...."

"Guilt for that which you had no power over is wasted emotion."

"And yet, I still feel guilty—horribly guilty."

"Self-indulgence."

"How can you say that? People died, people I cared about."

"What good does your guilt do them now? They remain dead."

"Well, at least, I can take some actions to bring about the freedom they died for."

"So you say."

"You don't agree, do you, with any of my plans?"

"No."

"Doesn't it matter to you that the Federation is nothing but a dictatorship gone mad? That its concern is only the rich and powerful?"

"No."

"What does matter to you?"

"Myself."

"I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself."

"You have a family that you care about, what of them?"

"I'm not the one baring my soul."

"I have no soul to bare, none that I can find, at any rate. They left me nothing—no memories of family or friends, no memories of my childhood, nothing."

"Perhaps that's why you broke the programming. They wiped too much and your mind rebelled at the emptiness."

"But all I remembered was who I am and my purpose in life. I can't even remember my mother's name."

"And yet your education is intact, is it not?"

"I think so."

"Then the rest will return—in time. How long has it been since you began rememberiing?"

"A year, or a little longer."

"And I assume you remember more now than you did at first."

"Yes, some."

"More will follow."

"You don't know that."

"No, but logic says that it is probable."

"And you trust in logic."

"Most of the time. Perhaps you should give it a try."

"You think I'm an emotional fool, don't you?"

"My thoughts don't matter—you've made that perfectly clear."

"Only when you speak against mounting an attack on the Federation."

"You mean when I question your right to use this ship for your own purposes which, by necessity, means involving me?"

"No one is making you do anything. After I rescue the other prisoners, you can get off at the first neutral planet."

"You're very sure they're going to want to take part in your little rebellion."

"Why wouldn't they? They're all victims of the Federation, just as we are."

"I did attempt to steal a lot of money. Most of the others are equally guilty. I'm not sure you're going to get the crew you think you are."

"That seems to amuse you."

"Very little amuses me, least of all you."

"So, you think this is all a waste of time."

"No. I think this is all a dangerous indulgence of your ego, which will end in your death and the deaths of everyone with you. I will not be a part of that."

At that point Avon had stood and ended the conversation by leaving the room....

 

Had Avon been correct? Was his wish to fight the Federation merely an indulgence of his ego? Did his desire to bring the evil empire down only reflect his own need for purpose in a life he couldn't remember? And what about the prisoners he was going to rescue—were they simply criminals who would take any opportunity to escape their punishment? How could he make sure the prisoners he took with him were sincere in their wish to fight the Federation? Could he leave those behind who appeared to be violent? How would he know the difference? And what would he do with a ship full of criminals? He sincerely hoped that such a situation would not present itself. What would he do if Avon did choose to leave? He didn't try to fool himself—Avon was the one who'd figured out most of what they knew about _Liberator_; he was the one who had sussed the computer system enough to operate the ship beyond go and stop. _Liberator_ was an awesome piece of technology, capable, Blake was sure, of far more than they could dream, but all of that would be locked away from them without someone of Avon's abilities to find the key.

Coming to his surroundings, he realized he had been standing in a corridor annex for several minutes, lost in his thoughts. His cause wasn't futile, but he would need the devil's own luck to get the right crew and change Avon's mind. He turned and retraced his steps to his quarters. He would succeed and Avon would be a part of it all. Now, all he had to do was devise a way to convince Avon that he wanted to stay.

If he could find something that Avon wanted enough to remain a member of the crew, he could rest easy. There must be something....


End file.
